Part Four: Boy Has Son
by JohnTitor
Summary: Lance Nicholas Dunne is ready to become the perfect father.
1. Chapter 1

Nick Dunne:

The Night Of

Discipline is something Amy never lacked. When she told me that she was going to kill herself as a final nail in the coffin, I didn't doubt it for a second.

It's because of that discipline that when It happened, it felt so unnatural. I wasn't like a hero from one of the movies Noelle had given us to watch. (Bitch had so many. Honestly, there hadn't been a week without her unwanted visit at least once. At least Amy suffered too. She had dug herself in this hole herself, after basically telling the whole world that Noelle was her best friend.

She at least still felt guilty for believing I had murdered my wife. Although nowadays the intent was there more than ever. )

Still, it happened. Amy simply told me her water broke. No yelling or crying, or hysteric dramatics. She just told me after walking down the stairs. I jumped from the couch, newspaper forgotten, and grabbed the bags that Noelle had forced us to get.

Shoved them in the car.

Gently, shoved her in the car.

Rode off.

We got to the hospital and I was asked if I wanted to come in. It was one of those things that the _old_ Nick, (or is it real Nick?) would have not done. A part of me didn't want to. I didn't want to associate the first memories of my son to be with her.

We were still pretending though.

Pretending is all we had left.

I had pretended I wasn't afraid of my wife, I had pretended that I was ashamed and didn't want to look guilty and thus lied about my credit cards, I pretended that I was afraid of how it looked like being found with everything in the shed, and I was afraid that I would go to jail since I was the only suspect yet no body had been found. Rhonda backed me up, and to be honest most of police didn't even care anymore. The case was done, and the less they saw of me or Amy (even if it's in my own mind I refuse to call her my wife) the better.

"Sir, would you like to come in with your wife?"

I looked up and nodded. Of course I nodded.

What kind of husband isn't there for his wife? In our household, a dead one.

I was excited to finally meet my son. I wouldn't be like my father, but I was also afraid. Go was right when she said I would explode. It had only been nine months and I was ready to explode. Sometimes I would go stay with her for a day or two, to get away from her. She _allowed_ it. I was a dancing monkey.

Then it happened.

The monitors beeped. The screens flashed red. Inexperienced nurses panicked, while the veterans took charge. A doctor pushed me out.

There was a complication and I perked up. The doctor assumed it was worry and it took every fiber in my body to not make the same mistakes. I did it though. I had learned. As much as I hate Amy, she did teach me a lesson. So my face was tight, a little stoic, but my eyebrows knitted in concern.

At the very least, I didn't smile.

When they asked me whose life should I save, Amy's or our baby's, I had to restrain myself from yelling out, Him.

I pretended to mull it over. I paced, and paced.

The doctor told me I had to hurry.

I couldn't be too fast though; my decision had to be sincere.

"His."


	2. Chapter 2

Margo Dunne

The Next Morning

When I get to the bar I see Nick's car parked outside. Parked isn't even the right word for it. It's just there in the parking lot. The door is still open, and I can see the bar's lights on. The car is dead, battery obviously drained.

I hurry to get inside the bar.

Nick doesn't like spending time at home, I know that. Often times he stays at my house, or just shows up at midnight and leaves at five.

But that doesn't explain why he would come here. It's one of his least favorite spots to hang out at.

The bar has gotten a lot more popular, it's become a bit of a tourist attraction. We both know it won't last. Already we've seen half the customers than what the first few months after _she_ had shown up brought in. Nick and I aren't dumb though, we had started saving the money and using it wisely.

Six months after she had been back, we hosted a yard sale. Basically, we were selling everything that _Nick_ had bought with the credit cards.

Thanks the book, and that, Nick was able to get out debt. One more thing she held over his head.

So the bar wasn't his most favorite place, at least not anymore, and at this point we only went there to avoid being at home, or near her.

But we were there together. Hardly ever was it only one of us.

I get inside and for a moment I'm struck with dejavu.

"Fuckingbitch. Fuckingbitch. Fuckingbitch."

I see him just sitting at the bar drinking.

Not something particularly out of the ordinary, Nick drank more now but usually only with me or even Boney once or twice. Other than that one would think he was in AA, since he didn't drink socially with others.

I think he feared his stupid mouth slipping and telling her something that would get him killed. I don't blame him; he was living with a murderess.

_Psycho bitch_.

But here he was, getting shitfaced on a Wednesday morning.

"Nick, you okay?"

He raises his head, but doesn't turn, and drinks more of the liquor in his cup.

"She's a fucking bitch Go. A fucking bitch."

"I know Nick, but what did she do now?"

"Always one step ahead of me. Fucking bitch."

"What happened Nick?"

"She died."

I'm going to hell. It took me a second to calm my joy down before I realized what was wrong.

"What… what happened?"

He just takes another drink.

"Nick.. Answer me."

Another drink.

"Please Nick…"

"He was stillborn."


End file.
